


Chasing a Chaser

by publishingprince



Series: First Time's the Charm [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Timeline, Community: hermione_smut, F/F, First Lesbian Experience, First Time, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, Lesbian Hermione Granger, Lesbian Sex, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Pansexual Ginny Weasley, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, for my girlfriend, wlw sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22690840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/publishingprince/pseuds/publishingprince
Summary: Hermione and Ginny find themselves alone in the broomshed.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Series: First Time's the Charm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632232
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Chasing a Chaser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy/gifts).



Part I 

"Oh – oh – OH -” Hermione grinded desperately on the hand between her legs, waves of intensity building in her body as she got closer to climax. She reached up jerkily, in the throes of pleasure, and grabbed the first breast she could reach. “OhhhhHH -” 

She suddenly dove under the covers as Lavender slammed huffily into the dormitory. Hermione lay, pussy throbbing, under the bedspread as if asleep while Lavender noisily gathered some things into her bag and slammed out again. As soon as she’d left, Hermione rolled onto her back and reached down, but it was too late – she couldn't imagine herself back into it again, at least not enough to pretend that her hand was Ginny’s hand, and the breast she was clutching was Ginny’s small, freckled, perky tit and not her own. 

With a deep sigh Hermione swung her legs off the bed, sat up, and reached for some weekend clothes. Her pussy was still pulsating impatiently, but she knew she couldn’t provide what it was aching for. It had been days since she and Ginny had had their encounter – Hermione, usually so precise with words, refused to call it anything else in her head – and yet Ginny was acting so nonchalant that Hermione had begun to wonder if she had just drifted off in front of the common room fire that night and dreamt the whole thing. She’d certainly been having her share of dreams since. Dreams where she got the chance to slide her finger all the way into Ginny, instead of being interrupted. Dreams where Ginny did the same to her. Dreams where she kissed Ginny’s lips, then kissed her lower, and grasped Ginny’s hips, and plunged her face - 

The fresh air of the Hogwarts’ grounds startled Hermione out of her reverie – she had let herself daydream all the way down from the Gryffindor tower and out the front doors of the castle. She shook her head impatiently – what would the real Professor Moody say about her lack of constant vigilance? and hurried down the front steps, currently bathed in warm late afternoon light. She was supposed to meet Harry and Ron after quidditch practice, and she headed in that direction, instinctively looking up to see if she could identify the small figures wheeling high above the pitch. Everyone had been in high spirits now that Katie Bell was back from hospital wing and ready to play in the upcoming Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match, meaning Hermione’s distracted thoughts and occasional mysterious smiles over the last few days had gone mostly unnoticed in the general electric energy of the school. The one time the boys had asked her what she was grinning about she had said “it’s a nice day,” which she thought was probably enough to satisfy their curiosity. 

Now, she squinted against the setting sun to see if she could spot one figure in particular – a red-haired Chaser. Shading her eyes with her hand, she let her mind wander again. Ginny and Dean had broken up the morning after the encounter...but she had barely seen Ginny since...but Ginny was busy with quidditch...but Hermione couldn’t think of anything else - “AH!” 

She felt hands grab her shoulders, hard. All of Moody’s warnings echoed in her head as she spun on her heel, already drawing her wand - “Expelliarmus!” 

For the second time that week, she found herself accidentally pointing her wand at a grinning Ginny, who raised her hands in the air in good-natured defeat as her own yew wand sailed away and fell gracefully into the grass a few paces away. For a second, Hermione thought she had conjured the other girl through sheer force of imagination, before she remembered she was a witch and magic was real and that wasn’t a type you could do, not in Sixth Year anyway. She felt her face slowly flushing the colour of Ginny's fiery hair. “Merlin’s beard. I’m sorry -” 

Hands still playfully held in the air, Ginny ducked her head and looked up through her lashes at Hermione, even though she was taller. “Are you going to jinx me, or...?” 

“Oh!” Hermione quickly lowered her wand and fumbled trying to stow it back in her pocket, looking away from Ginny’s brown eyes. Apparently satisfied she was no longer being held at wandpoint, Ginny jogged leisurely over to her wand and scooped it up, sliding it into a pocket stiched into the side of her quidditch trousers. Hermione stood stupidly on the spot and watched Ginny walk back to her. She was wearing her quidditch robes carelessly tossed back over one shoulder, and Hermione could see sweat shining on her collarbone despite the light breeze. She didn’t have her broom with her, but she must have been flying hard at practice. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Ginny, stopping in front of Hermione. Her grin seemed to indicate she wasn’t _that_ sorry. “That’s the second time I’ve snuck up on you this week, isn’t it? Are you down here to meet the boys?” 

Hermione’s mind raced faster than it ever had in class. The second time she’d snuck up this week...did this mean Ginny was acknowledging what had happened between them? And if so, what did that mean? If Hermione said she was here to meet Harry and Ron, would Ginny head up to the castle and leave her?

“Uh...yeah. Yes,” she said. She thought she saw Ginny turning to go. “But,” she added boldly, “I see them all the time, so, you know...what are you doing now? That practice is over?” 

Ginny slowly turned back to Hermione and gave her a searching look that felt like it travelled from Hermione’s toes all the way up to meet her eyes. Hermione shivered. Ginny swung her arms a little, holding Hermione’s gaze – she hadn’t been turning away, she’d only been stretching. She grinned even wider. “It isn’t actually over – I came down early to do equipment duty,” she said. “Have you ever been inside the broomshed?” 

Part II 

The air inside the broomshed was dusty and still. Shafts of light filtered through small, grimy windows set high in the walls of the shed, and lines of school brooms leaned on stands in rows, two on either side and one placed flat on top. Hermione could hear the shouts of the rest of the team high above them on the June air. 

Behind her, something creaked. She turned away from the brooms to see Ginny closing the door behind them. With a deliberate glance over her shoulder at Hermione, she slid the wooden latch in place with a scrape of wood on wood. Then all was still again, and the two girls were looking at each other through floating dust motes. 

Hermione stepped forward towards Ginny. “I can’t stop thinking about the other night.” 

Ginny laid her own broom, which they’d picked up on the way, on a workbench near the door. She stepped forward too, casting her face into shadow from her bangs. She still had on her quidditch robes, and they shifted softly as she moved, muffling the footfalls of her knee-high leather quidditch boots. “What *about* the other night?” 

“In the common room.” Hermione stepped forward again, putting her within touching distance of Ginny. Every fibre of Hermione’s skin tingled as Ginny closed the gap – then kept moving, brushing completely by her to a cupboard on the far wall. 

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Her back to Hermione, Ginny busied herself getting down a pot of broomstick polish and a rag. 

Hermione, usually slow to anger compared to her companions, felt a rush of frustration. She wasn’t used to being teased like this. She slowly drew her wand and pointed it at Ginny’s robe-covered back, waiting to see if Ginny would provide a real answer. Unfortunately, the will of an only child is nothing compared to the youngest of seven. Ginny kept her back to her, though Hermione thought she could detect a suppressed smile in Ginny's voice as she said, “Well?” 

Hermione silently unleashed a knockback spell. Ginny turned around just as the spell whooshed towards her. Her eyes widened as her body lifted a few inches into the air and flew backwards, her back hitting the wall beside the cupboard with a robe-softened thud. A whole year of practicing nonverbal spells had made Hermione’s casting flawless – she channeled her frustration just enough to pin Ginny against the wall, but not enough to hurt. Ginny gently slid down until her feet were touching the ground again. 

There was another silence, broken only by the tub of broomstick polish falling to the floor. Ginny, back still pressed flat against the wall, watched the older girl march determinedly towards her, wand still outstretched. When she reached her, Hermione poked her wand accusatorily into Ginny’s chest. “Well what! Answer my question!” 

Ginny looked down at her, her brown eyes serious. “You didn’t ask a question.” 

Hermione, despite having solved approximately 800 mysteries since arriving at Hogwarts, found herself out-logicked. She glared fiercely at Ginny, but it was an automatic facial expression borne of many years spent with Ron. Inside, she felt quite the opposite – in fact, every thought was currently taken up with realizing how close Ginny’s body was to hers. She could feel the warmth radiating off of Ginny, could sense the rise and fall of her chest. She lowered her wand ever so slightly. 

Almost lazily, Ginny reached up and grabbed Hermione’s wand, twisting it away from her chest. Hermione didn’t object, nor did she object to Ginny grasping her shoulders and spinning her around. Now it was Hermione who was against the wall, and Ginny who stood in front of her, both hands pressing Hermione’s shoulders back against the rough stone. Hermione felt a phantom warmth along her spine where Ginny’s body had touched the stone a moment before. She opened her hand and let her wand clatter to the dusty floor. 

Just as she had in the common room, Ginny bent her head and brought her lips almost to Hermione’s. She breathed her next sentence into Hermione's mouth, which was already parted and open - she was almost panting from wanting. 

“Do you have a question you want to ask me?” 

"No.” Hermione looked into Ginny’s eyes and saw them flick down to her mouth, then back up to her eyes, then down to her mouth again, where they lingered. Her breath mingled with Hermione’s. 

“Then what do you want?” 

“Kiss me.” 

Part III 

Ginny’s own parted lips met Hermione’s. They were soft, and salty with sweat, and somehow the fact that the sun was still out made it all seem much more real than it had in the firelight of the common room. Ginny kept her hands on Hermione’s shoulders, applying light pressure, but Hermione’s hands were free and they came up as if of their own volition, urgently pushing aside the quidditch robes to grab fistfuls of Ginny’s jersey and wrench it up, untucking it from her trousers. Her fingertips grazed Ginny’s sides. 

In response, Ginny kissed her harder, slipping her tongue inside Hermione’s mouth and then pulling back to suck on her lip. Hermione embarrassed herself by letting out a small moan that rang out shockingly load in the quiet of the broomshed. Ginny bit her lip again and slipped her hand under Hermione’s shirt, finding her breast immediately. She squeezed. Hermione smothered another moan and grasped the fabric at Ginny’s sides. 

“I...really...want you,” she panted through kisses. 

“Take me then,” said Ginny. She flung off her quidditch robes in one fierce motion, and a puff of dust rose up and caught the sunlight as they hit the floor behind her. Ginny leaned closer in, pinning Hermione’s body gently to the wall with her own and looping her arms lazily around Hermione’s neck. 

Hardly believing she was being so daring, Hermione tugged Ginny’s Gryffindor jersey up over her arms, which Ginny obligingly raised above her head, and dropped it carefully on top of the fallen quidditch robes. Ginny shivered slightly as goosebumps raised all along her freckled shoulders and arms, then shivered again when Hermione kissed her. They kept kissing as Ginny reached down, keeping her face tilted towards Hermione’s, and unzipped her tall boots. They angled their mouths towards each other, laughing breathlessly when they lost contact for a second as Ginny writhed out of her trousers. She was wearing plain cotton men’s briefs that hugged her thighs, rucked up a little from being under her uniform, and the same strappy sports bra she had been wearing in the common room. Even her stomach had freckles on it. There was a tiny trail of red hair leading from her navel into her underwear. 

Hermione felt her breath catch. The early evening sun made even the finest hairs on Ginny’s body glow gold. Hermione didn’t know where to look, so she closed her eyes and kissed her, hard. Ginny ducked to kiss her back, and, emboldened, Hermione pushed her blindly backwards, out into the room, kissing her deep and long, slipping her tongue into her mouth with more confidence now that she wasn’t distracted by having to look at Ginny's body. She felt Ginny stumble into something and Hermione’s eyes flew open. Ginny’s eyes were still closed, but she was now pushed up against a row of stabled brooms – the two leaning on either side framed her, while her shoulder blades pressed into the third resting horizontally across the top of the broom stand. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Hermione took a deep breath and left the relative safety of Ginny’s mouth to begin kissing down the side of her jaw. Ginny didn’t open her eyes – she tilted her head back over the horizontal broomstick and let out a soft moan. As Hermione kissed the faint dried sweat from her collarbone, Ginny looped first one arm, then the other around the shaft of the broom. At first she rested them casually but as Hermione kissed lower and lower – down the firmness of her breastbone, through the valley between her breasts, and towards her stomach – Ginny locked her elbows, tightening her grasp and arching her back, her head flung back to face the beams of the ceiling. She let out another moan. “Hermione...” 

Hermione’s whole body flushed at the sound of her name. Her pussy throbbed with desire but she remained focused on the task at hand. Still fully clothed, she bent almost double at the waist, her hands grasping Ginny’s hips. The light was lengthening. Distantly, she registered that she couldn’t hear the shouts of practice anymore, but she didn’t stop to think about what that meant. This was just like her dreams. She kissed lower and lower, traveling down Ginny’s stomach...then paused in a half crouch, her last kiss landing right on the trail of red hair leading into Ginny’s cotton briefs. In her dreams Ginny never had underwear on. 

Her answer for what to do came almost immediately – Ginny bucked her hips forward, her pubic bone almost colliding with Hermione’s face. “Take them off,” she moaned, her voice ending almost in a whine. 

Hermione did as she was told. She barely got the underwear past Ginny’s knees before Ginny was kicking it impatiently down the rest of her long leg, her head still tilted back. She writhed towards Hermione, who obligingly grasped Ginny’s thighs just beneath her hips, as much to keep her still as anything else. Her fingers dug in to Ginny’s smooth skin. Hermione took another breath and dipped her face between Ginny’s legs. 

Both girls gasped. Hermione slipped her tongue between Ginny’s folds and licked, slowly, all the way up. Ginny was wet and tasted like nothing Hermione had ever experienced. Stopping only to take a deep, shuddering breath, Hermione licked again, and again, and again, until Ginny was arching her back so much over the broom that her feet threatened to come off the ground. Her hands grasped the broomstick harder than when she was in the air. She moaned louder and louder with each lick, and Hermione worked her tongue deeper each time. 

Suddenly Hermione pulled back and stood up. 

“What?” Ginny’s eyes were half closed and she looked disoriented. “Are you alright?” 

Hermione looked nervously around. “I thought I heard something -” 

Ginny carefully unhooked one arm from the broom behind her and reached out, pulling Hermione to her. Hermione dissolved into the kiss, Ginny’s juices still on her tongue as she curled close. She worked her hand down and found Ginny dripping wet. 

Ginny’s voice was in her ear. “Do it.” 

Hermione slipped her left index finger inside Ginny. It was warm and wet, and at the same time she reflexly slipped her tongue farther into Ginny’s mouth. Ginny moaned and writhed against her, grinding down onto Hermione’s finger. She grabbed a handful of Hermione’s bushy hair with the hand that wasn’t pressing Hermione’s body against hers and gently tugged, winding her long fingers among the curls. Hermione gasped and slid her finger in and out, then added a second finger, feeling Ginny’s body move eagerly to meet her. The two girls rocked back and forth, their bodies pressing into one another, sweat now shining on both of them. 

Then everything happened very fast. Ginny flung her head back again, her arms flying out to grasp at the broom, her own hair, her breasts, the air, as Hermione felt her contract around her fingers. Over the other girl’s moans, and her own subconscious panting, she heard a rattling sound. Drawing her gaze up from Ginny’s contorted, ecstatic face, Hermione’s eyes landed upon the wooden latch of the broomshed that Ginny had locked – hours? Days? Ago. It was apparently being rattled by some external force.

“Ginny? I know you're in there! Lemme in!” The real world came rushing back to Hermione, along with the sound of Ron’s voice. She thought she heard Harry’s low tenor at the door, too – and with horror she saw that the latch was being shaken up and out of its groove. Feeling briefly grateful the boys had never mastered the Alohamora charm, she slid her fingers out of Ginny, who slumped forward, still gasping. 

“We have to go!” Hermione, still fully clothed, had the advantage. She flung Ginny’s quidditch uniform at her and rushed anxiously to the door, wringing her hands, then back to Ginny, who was now half-heartedly tugging on her trousers. She had apparently balled up her underwear and was shoving it in her pocket, not bothering to put it on. Her eyes were still unfocused, and she reached out and grabbed Hermione’s face with the hand that wasn’t holding up her waistband, pulling her in for a deep kiss that tasted of sex. Hermione let it go on for a few seconds before she pulled away.

“What are we going to do!” she hissed. She couldn't stop staring at Ginny's body.

“Sneak out when their backs are turned. I’m going to cause a diversion,” Ginny said, pulling her jersey on with one hand and drawing her wand out of her now belted uniform with the other. Her eyes now held the same singular focus Hermione had noticed when she’d put Harry’s omnioculars to use in the quidditch stands lately. 

And somehow, it worked. Hermione crouched behind the workbench by the door as Ginny, her boots done up, quidditch robes now hiding her tousled, hastily fastened clothes, whooped loudly and sent a cascade of school brooms up in the air and then crashing down on Ron and Harry at the same time as the latch gave way and the two boys spilled suddenly into the broomshed. Twilight was fast approaching, and Hermione slipped out unnoticed in the resulting din – Ron roaring in fury, Harry covering his head with his arms as the broomsticks came raining down, Ginny dancing out of reach as she said tauntingly, “Fred and George aren’t here, I have to do something to liven things up!” Hermione rushed across the now dewy grass, her heart beating wildly. She reached the front doors of the castle and raised her left hand to her nose. It smelled of Ginny. Hermione patted her pocket automatically and froze.

It was empty. She had left her wand on the floor in the broomshed. 


End file.
